


Against the World

by pancakewars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Scott Pilgrim AU, mild video game violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6289021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakewars/pseuds/pancakewars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s a catch,” Kuroo says, in the same cautious tone he uses right after he’s distracted Kenma from an Important Boss Battle, and is preparing to assess the damage. “If we’re going to date, you may or may not have to, uh, defeat my seven exes.” [Scott Pilgrim AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Operation Snake Eater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chesire (kierenwalkers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kierenwalkers/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALICE ♥
> 
> You’re amazing and deserve the world, but that was sort of beyond my budget so please accept this fic from me!! It’s 3k just like I promised, except I messed up, and this is just the first chapter u__u I hope you enjoy it~
> 
> A super big thank you to my heroes: [Awesome Beta Reet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/girltalk/pseuds/girltalk), for coming up with the idea for this fic and helping me whenever I needed help, and my sister, for putting up with my endless brainstorming/rambling when it came to writing.
> 
> This fic is based on the premise of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (comic book series/movie). The first chapter contains spoilers up to chapter 190 of the manga. No one dies, I promise. Except maybe in video game form, but none of that is permanent/carries over to real life. I’ll tag warnings and characters as I go!

The wifi in Kenma’s room has been acting up since morning, which is how all bad things start. Even over the grainy screen of their video chat, the guilt on Kuroo’s face is clear.

Kenma narrows his eyes. “I have to do _what_? Defeat your _seven evil exes_?”

Kuroo’s nervous laugh comes out as a rush of static. “I know it sounds complicated, but they’re not _evil_ , they’re just… exes. Seven of them. You probably know most of them.”

“I take it back,” Kenma says. “I don’t like you that much.”

For a split second, Kuroo looks wounded. Then the look disappears, and a slow, teasing grin splits his face. “But Kenma, just a minute ago you told me that you want to spend the rest of your life—”

Kenma reaches for the ‘end call’ button.

“Wait,” Kuroo yelps. “Don’t hang up. I swear, it’ll be just like one of your video games—”

A jerk of the finger and Kuroo’s face vanishes, the words _call ended_ coming up to replace him. Kenma carefully places his laptop next to him on the bed before flopping down.

“Ugh,” he mumbles into his pillow, as if he hadn’t been the one to suppress his feelings for Kuroo for as long as he possibly could, freak out about them only after Kuroo had left for university, sit through every one of Lev’s terrible brainstorms about how to woo someone, and finally think _screw this_ and tell Kuroo over video chat, as he did with just about everything else in his life.

Maybe Kenma _had_ brought this upon himself.

He sits up and pulls his laptop back over. Kuroo picks up after half a ring, pixelated face coming into view. Kenma does his best to look disinterested. “You were, uh, saying something about video games?”

“Right,” Kuroo perks up. “It’s straightforward. You complete a certain number of tasks just like in a game, clear a certain number of enemies to win the prize.” He pauses. “The prize is me, by the way. Unless you want it to be sex. Then the prize is sex.”

Kenma feels himself flush. “I don’t get it. How do I win? Will I have to talk to your exes?”

Kuroo folds his hands, leaning forward so that his face takes up most of the screen. “I don’t make the rules, but listen carefully, okay? I can only explain this once.”

Kenma nods.

“The seven exes you’ll be dealing with will probably—”

The video chat chooses that moment to freeze.

Kenma stares in horror at Kuroo’s unmoving face. The wifi Gods must really, really hate him today. He clamps down on the urge to throw something, stays put and takes a deep, calming breath.

Leaving the room to check the router won’t help, since that will take a while, and there’s no way Kuroo won’t be done by the time he gets back. So Kenma does the next best thing. He sighs in defeat and traces the outline of Kuroo’s jaw on screen, annoyed with himself for thinking about how attractive his best friend is in 240p.

“—or something like that,” Kuroo’s voice finishes a minute later, as the chat finally resumes. “You can handle that, right?” He sounds hopeful. Kenma quickly withdraws his hand.

He still doesn’t know what ‘that’ entails, but luck has made it quite clear that it’s not on his side today. So Kenma considers. Truthfully, it’s been a while since he last played something challenging. The whole interacting-with-exes part of the deal sounds like a lot of trouble, but Kuroo is worth trouble, right?

“Fine,” Kenma says. “I’ll defeat your seven not-evil exes.”

Kuroo lets out a static-filled cheer.

 

 

By evening, Kenma is already beginning to regret the decision. The prospect of confronting Kuroo’s exes itself is making him anxious, let alone _defeating_ them, whatever that means. Kenma probably couldn’t defeat a five-year-old at hopscotch.

In a rare and impulsive move, he boards the next train to Tsukuba.

He doesn’t bother texting in advance. It’s not like Kuroo will turn him away; Kenma could probably turn up at Kuroo’s doorstep at four in the morning reeking of alcohol and vomit, and Kuroo would still give him his bed. Right now, Kenma doesn’t reek of anything, and he’s perfectly willing to share.

He sinks down in the train seat and wonders how Kuroo managed to accumulate so many exes. Who are they, anyway? Kenma sighs and starts counting off his fingers.

Tsukishima. Kuroo had gone out with him for a while, before he’d graduated from Nekoma. Kenma can’t pinpoint when that relationship started or how it ended, but he’s pretty sure it was legitimate.

The former captain of the Karasuno team? Kuroo definitely used to make eyes at him.

Bokuto, probably. Kuroo mentioned meeting the former captain of Fukurodani in his first year, back when Kenma was still in middle school. It’s all coming back to him now, like a poorly repressed memory. _Experimenting_ , was what Kuroo had said. Which brings to mind the image of—

On second thought, Kenma doesn’t care who Kuroo’s exes are. It really isn’t any of his concern. There are far more interesting things to do than think about who Kuroo has made out with. Kenma looks out the window and stares at the clouds.

He wishes he’d brought his PSP along.

_How about a nap?_ , suggests the really bright, really unhelpful voice in his head that sounds a lot like Lev. _A short one. A catnap._

Kenma scowls. “I hate naps,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m not even tired.”

 

 

He jolts awake an hour later, just as the train pulls into Kenkyugakuen Station. Groggily, Kenma stumbles out of his seat and makes his way onto the platform. His legs work automatically, carrying him in the same direction as the person in front of him, until he finds himself at an unfamiliar exit.

The lights from signboards all around hurt his eyes, and Kenma doesn’t recognise this part of the station. He doesn’t know which way he’s supposed to go. All he knows is that his brain isn’t working, people are jostling him, and there’s _too much noise_.

The sky is getting darker by the minute, but Kenma ducks out of the nearest exit, scurrying to a secluded path by the road for some space. Everything looks different from in the day. He’ll probably never find his way to Kuroo now.

The bushes behind him rustle. Kenma whips around, startled.

Nothing. Kenma inches closer, trying to peer around the leaves to see what had made the noise. Some sort of animal? A cat? As soon as he gets near enough, there’s a blur of movement, and a different cluster of bushes several meters away rustles.

It’s not so much curiosity but a dumb, post-sleep-fuelled instinct that guides Kenma to follow. Each time he approaches the mysterious entity, it flees, leading Kenma further and further from the station. By the time Kenma realises he should probably be paying attention, he has no clue where he is.

He’s standing in a clearing of some sort, surrounded by trees.

“My, my,” says a voice that seems to come from in front of him— male, pitched low, and dripping with a familiar malice. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Kenma struggles to place the voice, eyes searching for the source. The effort is futile. It’s pretty dark.

“Has the _legendary_ brain of Nekoma’s volleyball team come out to play?”

“Oh,” Kenma says, recognising the style of the jab immediately. “Daishou?”

A silky laugh confirms it. “You’re going to fight me for that former captain of yours?”

That’s when it all clicks into place. Defeat Kuroo’s seven exes. Of course.

“Kuroo dated _you_?” Kenma recalls how Kuroo and Daishou used to hang out during joint training, despite constantly being at each other’s throats. He grimaces. “I’m not here to fight you...”

No sooner have the words left his mouth than Kenma realises there’s something in his hand. A gun. Not an ordinary gun either— it looks like a tranquiliser. He raises it to take a closer look, and realises his jeans and hoodie have been replaced by camouflage gear.

“That’s a shame,” Daishou drawls. His voice sounds nearer to Kenma than before. “Since _I’m_ here to fight _you_.”

His tone is predatory, and more than a little unsettling. Thankfully, Kenma has had a few years of practice dealing with Daishou. The trick is to ignore everything he says.

Kenma glances around. Even if he were to try and tranquilise Daishou, he’d never be able to spot him in the dark.

“You can run,” Daishou taunts. “But you can’t hide.”

Kenma frowns. “Run? I’m not—”

There’s a sudden, sharp pain in his leg, and Kenma looks down to see something embedded in his thigh. It’s a dart, he realises with mild horror. Kenma yanks it out, hissing as a spot of dark red begins to stain his pants. His leg is already beginning to feel numb.

_Antidote_ , he thinks urgently, but he doesn’t seem to be in possession of much besides his gun and new outfit. There’s a small radio in right pocket, and a bandana around his sleeve that Kenma removes to bandage the wound.

It’s suddenly taking a lot of effort to stay upright. Kenma sways on the spot, every movement sluggish. _Think_. He tries to turn his head to look for clues, vision swimming. _There has to be a way out of this. Maybe…_

Kenma’s legs buckle, and he pitches forward.

Everything goes black.

 

 

Kenma is in a clearing of some sort, surrounded by trees.

“My, my,” says a voice that seems to come from in front of him— male, pitched low, and dripping with a familiar malice. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Kenma glances down at his thigh. No blood stain.

Daishou laughs. “You’re going to fight me for that former captain of yours?”

Right. So Kenma’s been given another shot at this. He turns immediately and run for cover, stopping only when he feels like he’s put enough distance between himself and the clearing. The shade of a large tree seems like a reasonable place to crouch and formulate a plan. Hopefully, Daishou won’t find him here.

Kenma extracts the radio from his pocket and makes a call to the only option listed: “LEV”. The earpiece in his ear crackles to life.

“Kenma!” Lev sounds eager, as if he’d been waiting around all day for this specific call. “Do you need some useful information about your opponent?”

“Yes,” Kenma breathes. “Please.”

Lev clears his throat. “Daishou Suguru, nineteen years old, one of Kuroo’s seven exes. The darts he uses are coated in a super lethal poison that will knock you out in seconds, so avoid being hit at all costs! He’s also wearing a special camouflage suit that keeps him well-hidden. You’ll be able to hear him, but probably not see him.”

Kenma waits for Lev to continue, but is met with expectant silence. “Is that it?” Kenma frowns. “I could’ve told you that.”

“Really?” Lev’s disappointment is evident. “Well… his behaviour is kind of erratic, even though his insults are always the same, and he probably wasn’t hugged enough as a baby. I made that up. There isn’t actually anything else written in his file.”

Kenma sighs.

“He hides in trees?” Lev tries.

Kenma wrinkles his nose. “Trees?”

“Yeah! I think it’s a snake thing. He hops from tree to tree— well, obviously snakes don’t hop, but you know what I mean—”

There’s a familiar rustling, and Kenma shushes Lev. He rises to his feet, careful not to stumble on the roots spread across the ground, and listens.

“Hello, kitten,” croons Daishou, loud and mocking, from directly above him. A twinge of irritation accompanies the sharp pain in Kenma’s neck, before he even has the chance to look up.

He’s out in seconds.

 

 

“There must be something that’ll help you out,” Lev says. “Maybe a special move? A secret item hidden in the area? Yeah, it’s probably a hidden item.” For an NPC, he sounds pretty invested in the fight.

Kenma stops to listen for any sign of movement. He hears nothing, and withdraws behind a thick, moss-covered trunk. “If you were the key to clearing a level, where would you hide?”

“In the furthest, most difficult-to-reach corner of the map?” Lev suggests.

“No,” Kenma shakes his head, a pointless action. “Somewhere obvious, but not too obvious.” As soon as he says it, he knows what the answer might be.

But first, he needs to gauge Daishou’s position. Kenma cups his hands around his mouth, prepared to make a break for it if he has to. “Are you still hung up over Kuro?” he calls, wincing at how loud his voice sounds in the quiet.

The response is almost immediate. “That bastard was the reason my girlfriend broke up with me, like hell I’m still hung up over him!”

His voice is clear, but distant. Kenma relaxes, makes his way slowly towards the clearing. “You’re fighting me because of something Kuro did?”

“This isn’t about winning, this is about _revenge_. I’m fighting you for Kuroo’s happy ending.”

Kenma can’t tell exactly how far away Daishou is. He’ll have to take his chances.

Making as little noise as possible, Kenma emerges into the clearing, scanning the area. It doesn’t take long to locate the item: what looks like a cross between goggles and a pair of a binoculars, hanging from the branch of a nearby tree.

Kenma reaches for the goggles. His fingers fall short.

He jumps, makes a grab for them. They’re still too high up.

Kenma glances around. There’s nothing in the vicinity that could help him reach the goggles. If only Lev could materialise and make himself useful.

A noise from behind him makes Kenma jump. He whirls around, watches as someone drops from the next tree, landing cleanly on his feet in front of him.

Like Kenma, Daishou is dressed in camouflage and carrying an intimidating-looking gun. Unlike Kenma, Daishou’s gun is at the ready, pointed right at Kenma.

A grin spreads across Daishou’s face. “Long time no see, kitten.”

“Not long enough,” Kenma mutters darkly, just as Daishou fires.

 

 

Kenma is in a clearing of some sort, surrounded by trees.

“My, my,” says a voice that seems to come from in front of him— male, pitched low, and dripping with a familiar malice. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

This time, Kenma knows what to do. He runs straight for the tree, digging his radio out of his pocket to hurl it at the goggles. They connect, knocking the goggles off the branch and onto the ground. Kenma grabs them and runs for cover.

Daishou’s laugh sounds alarmingly close. Kenma fits the goggles over his eyes and turns them on, vision going a pale blue-grey. The edges of select plants in the area are tinged with green and yellow. There’s only one thing moving in his field of vision— a white, human-shaped figure up in the trees, not too far off from where Kenma is standing.

Kenma takes aim with his tranquiliser gun, prays for enough luck to make up for the wifi incident, and pulls the trigger.

There’s a shriek, and the figure plummets towards the ground. Kenma yanks off the goggles, keeping the tranquiliser in his hand as he picks his way over to where Daishou is lying face-up on the ground.

“You caught me,” Daishou sighs. “Just like Mika-chan.”

“Your ex-girlfriend?” Kenma raises an eyebrow. “Did she catch you with Kuro? Is that why she broke up with you?”

Daishou nods.

“That’s your own business,” Kenma says flatly. “Leave us out of it.”

“But I loved her,” Daishou says sadly. “And it was a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding that you cheated on her?”

“I didn’t cheat,” Daishou insists. “She said she wanted a break, so… we weren’t even dating at the time. But she still dumped me.” He looks so pitiful lying flat on the ground recounting the story that Kenma almost feels bad.

“Uh,” Kenma says awkwardly. “Did you… try talking to her?” He has no idea why he’s counselling his opponent. Kenma knows nothing about relationships. If anything, _he’s_ the one who needs relationship advice, what with a best-friend-turned-almost-boyfriend who has seven exes he has to defeat to get rid of the ‘almost’.

Daishou’s voice is growing fainter with every word. The tranquiliser must finally be taking effect. “I don’t think she cared what I had to say.”

Kenma shrugs. “Then maybe you’re better off without her.”

Daishou chuckles. Kenma feels unnerved at how, for once, he doesn’t look completely evil.

“You’re the most annoying setter to play against,” Daishou murmurs. “Otherwise, you’re not so bad.”

And then he closes his eyes and goes to sleep.

 

 

Kenma finds a small stone on the ground next to Daishou— it’s grey, fits nicely into the palm of his hand, and appears in no way extraordinary except that it shimmers prettily when Kenma holds it up to the light. He puts it in his pocket, just in case.

A sudden wind gusts through the area, whipping Kenma’s hair around his face dramatically. Kenma stands over Daishou, overcome with a sudden and inexplicable sense of triumph.

Which is weird, actually. Kenma’s not _that_ excited about having defeated Daishou. He’s tired, hungry, and just wants to curl up next to Kuroo with a video game that doesn’t require any physical exertion, and a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream on the top.

He gazes down at the gun still in his hands. “Is this a dream?”

“Nope,” Lev’s voice chirps in his ear. “It’s a cutscene.”

Kenma doesn’t remember turning on his radio. He also doesn’t remember the way he came, but a section of trees to his left seems to part slightly, as if to encourage him to walk in that direction. Kenma regards it with suspicion.

“Congratulations,” Lev cheers. “You defeated the first of Kuroo’s exes!”

Kenma supposes he’s happy. Facing Daishou had been a challenge he’s glad to have overcome. With one ex out of the way, he’s now a step closer to whatever it is he’d hoped to get out of telling Kuroo all his unnecessary feelings over video chat. Upgraded bed access, probably. Maybe some of that hand-holding stuff.

“Thanks,” Kenma says. He decides to take his chances with the trees. “Just six more to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each boss battle will be modelled after a video game genre/series — this chapter’s was based on a first-person shooter/stealth game (specifically, [Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater](http://metalgear.wikia.com/wiki/Metal_Gear_Solid_3:_Snake_Eater)). Please anticipate more games for future chapters!!
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN, ALICE ♥ words cannot convey my love for you (not 3k, not 19k), I hope you have a fantastic year ahead!!!


	2. The Very Best

Akaashi isn’t the last person Kenma expects to answer Kuroo’s door, but he certainly isn’t very high on the list, either.

Kenma gapes at the current Fukurodani volleyball captain. “What are you doing here?” he asks, as if the loud music blasting from the apartment, small crowds of people dancing inside, and plastic cup of beer in Akaashi’s hand aren’t explanation enough.

He really should have texted in advance.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Considering Akaashi deals with _Bokuto_ on a regular basis, Kenma is surprised he’s surprised. From all the stories Kuroo has told him, not even burning buildings and the threat of imminent death faze Akaashi anymore.

“I came to see Kuro,” Kenma mumbles, a little miffed. If anyone has a right to show up at Kuroo’s doorstep without justification, it’s him.

Akaashi gives him a look— one Kenma doesn’t know the meaning of— and steps aside.

The party appears to be in full swing; Kenma doesn’t have to worry about anyone looking his way, but the dim lighting also means it isn’t easy to spot Kuroo. People are milling abound, drinking and talking over the music. The atmosphere sets Kenma on edge, and he debates turning around and going home— but it had taken hours and a surprise battle to get here. Plus, he’s starving.

He sidles over to the drinks table, hoping to find some kind of a snack. What he finds instead is a tipsy-looking Bokuto building a tower out of plastic cups.

Kenma suddenly has a bad feeling about being here.

_Experimenting_ , the small voice in his head reminds him. Kenma takes a slow step backwards. Bokuto hasn’t seen him yet.

Just as Kenma is about to make a break for it, his foot catches on the leg of an empty chair behind him. The chair topples with an audible crash, and Kenma’s cheeks burn as several people turn to stare, Bokuto included.

Gold eyes lock onto his. Kenma tries to run, but his feet are rooted to the spot.

“Kenma?” Bokuto tilts his head. It makes him look like one of those small, friendly birds that perch on fences in the summer. But then he straightens, extending an arm to point dramatically at Kenma.

His aim is off, finger hovering just above Kenma’s left shoulder. His words are slurred.

“I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!”

 

 

They square off next to the drinks table. Kenma doesn’t know how to feel when Bokuto whips out a Poké Ball and tosses it forward with a cry of, “Hoothoot, I choose you!”

The Poké Ball hits the floor. There’s a blinding flash, and in its place stands a bird that looks like it might be taller than Kenma himself.

“That,” Kenma says. “Is not a Hoothoot.”

Bokuto’s shoulders slump. “I didn’t think things through when I picked a name, alright?”

A Hoothoot would look like a stuffed toy in comparison. Bokuto’s Noctowl— the bigger, badder evolution of Hoothoot— spreads its wings, letting out a battle screech that shakes the ground they’re standing on. Everyone in the room seems to stop what they’re doing to watch. Kenma feels himself shrink under their collective gaze.

“Why are we doing this?” he asks. A Poké Ball has found its way into his hand, and Kenma clutches it protectively. “Are we fighting over Kuro? I thought you two were just…”

_Experimenting_ , supplies his brain. Kenma wills the image from his mind.

Bokuto raises a fist in the air. “Bro code!” His eyes are unfocused, and Kenma grimaces. It’s hard enough dealing with a sober Bokuto. “And… I dunno, Kuroo said you asked him out, or something. But you’ll have to go through me first!”

Kenma stares, mortified. “Did Kuro say that I… what did Kuro tell you?”

“He said… he said let’s celebrate, but don’t tell Kenma!" He pauses to scratch his head. "You know, I dunno why it took you so long to ask him. It’s only been obvious since forever that he totally loves you.”

Kenma rolls his eyes— that explains things. All the same, his mood lifts a little. “Fine,” he says decisively. “Let’s do this.”

It’s been a decade since Kenma took part in his first Pokémon battle, so he’s pretty sure he has the upper hand. He takes a deep breath to shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him, tossing his Poké Ball forward and watching in anticipation as his Pokémon takes form.

There’s a flash, and then something small, cat-like, and covered in pink fur materialises in the middle of the room. It’s a Skitty.

Kenma is torn. On one hand, Skitty is only the _cutest_ Pokémon to exist across all generations. Kenma gets to his knees and it bounds up to him, nuzzling his hand. Its fur is soft. Kenma is no longer tired, no longer hungry, no longer annoyed about having to deal with a drunk Bokuto—

Kenma starts, snapping out of his trance. He peers up at Bokuto’s Noctowl. On the other hand, of course Kenma has to fight Bokuto’s giant-ass bird with a tiny kitten. Of course. Why couldn’t Kenma’s nine-year-old self have picked _Gyarados_ as his favourite Pokémon?

“Ha!” Bokuto says. It might have had more of an effect if he’d followed it up with something intimidating or witty, but he leaves it at that.

Kenma scans the crowd of onlookers. Still no sign of Kuroo. He sees Akaashi near the back, probably here to make sure Bokuto doesn’t damage the furniture or get himself killed.

Kenma turns to his Skitty. “What moves do you know?”

Skitty bats playfully at its own tail.

Kenma sighs. Still, he’s ready to give this a shot. “Skitty… sing!”

Amazingly, Skitty bursts into song. Its voice is soft and melodic, like the tinkling of bells.

Unfortunately, its song has a very generic tune— the kind every other pop ballad group is putting out nowadays. There’s nothing very original about it, and it seems to go on and on. It’s bland and forgettable. More importantly, it’s as if Skitty’s heart isn’t in it.

Without any real emotion behind the notes, the song is _boring_. Even Kenma is beginning to feel drowsy. The only occupant of the room who seems unaffected is Noctowl.

Kenma belatedly remembers that Noctowl has Insomnia as an ability— immunity from all sleep-related moves. An oversight on Kenma’s part. He shakes himself out of his stupor as Skitty’s song ends.

“Hoothoot,” Bokuto yawns. “Sky attack…”

Kenma watches as Noctowl lifts off from the ground, hovering as high as possible against the low ceiling and becoming cloaked in a harsh light.

“Attract?” Kenma tries. “Can you attract Noctowl while it’s in the air? Skitty, attract!”

A tiny tremor passes through the room, and Skitty seems to sparkle.

Once again, Noctowl seems unaffected. It’s members of the audience who bear the brunt of the attack, clamouring forward to try and pet Skitty, shoving and pulling each other and not getting very far for all that effort.

“Skitty!” cries one lovestruck partygoer that Kenma is glad he doesn’t recognise.

Bokuto crosses his arms, puffing out his chest. “You can’t make _me_ fall for you, I have a boyfriend!”

Akaashi sighs audibly from the far end of the room.

The glow around Noctowl fades. Its gaze is fixed on Skitty— or is it fixed on Kenma? it’s hard to tell with them standing less than a meter part. Noctowl hurtles towards them with a cry.

“Can you dodge?” Kenma asks Skitty in mild panic. “Can you… stand your ground?” He lowers his voice. “Can _I_ stand my ground?”

There’s a deafening rumble, and the ground around them seems to splinter from Noctowl’s impact. Skitty is knocked into the air with a frightened mewl, and Kenma makes a grab for it. Time seems to slow. Through the ringing in his ears, Kenma sees Bokuto’s victorious grin from where he’s standing. He doesn’t see anything after that.

 

 

Kenma wakes up in a familiar bed with a familiar pair of eyes watching him.

“Lev?” Kenma sits up, Kuroo’s Spiderman comforter pooling around him. “What’s going on?” At the edge of the bed, Skitty is curled up, fast asleep. Not a dream, then.

“From what people are saying, you got your ass kicked,” Lev says, eyes shining with excitement. He watches as Kenma reaches over to brush his hand against Skitty’s fur. “He’s fine,” Lev assures him. “He’s resting to full health.”

Kenma lets his head fall back against the headboard. “Where’s Kuro?” His eyes slide to Kuroo’s desk, where Kenma’s wallet is lying open on top of it. “What’s my stuff doing there?”

“You lost the battle, so Bokuto took half your money,” Lev explains.

Kenma moves his arms and legs experimentally. At least he’s not sore. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “Who told you— actually, nevermind.” He exhales, shifting his attention back to Skitty.

If only Skitty weren’t so tiny and vulnerable. No matter how eager Kenma is to go back out there and challenge Bokuto to a rematch, it’s not going to do any good without a plan.

“Where’s Kuro?” Kenma asks again.

As if on cue, the door bursts open.

“Kenma,” Kuroo pants, hair messed more than usual and expression concerned. Kenma feels oddly relieved to see him. “Are you okay? We were out of cups, so I had to run to the store— Akaashi said Bokuto’s drunk ass did a number on you. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Kenma answers immediately.

Lev jumps up, overturning his chair in the process. “You should’ve said so! I’ll get food.”

He squeezes past Kuroo and out the door without another word. For once, Kenma is thankful for his enthusiasm.

“So,” Kuroo leans against the doorframe, catching his breath. Kenma tries to think of a way to get him to come over without seeming clingy. Kuroo’s gaze drops to Skitty’s sleeping form. “You fought Bokuto’s giant-ass bird with this, this—” Kuroo falters, kneeling down to run his fingers lightly over Skitty’s fur. “Adorable little thing,” he coos.

Skitty rouses at the sound of Kuroo’s voice, lifting its head and purring as Kuroo scratches behind its ears. Kenma frowns as Skitty licks Kuroo’s hand.

“Sorry about Bokuto,” Kuroo says as he detaches himself from Skitty, crawling over to sit next to Kenma. “The whole ‘exes’ thing applies pretty loosely. I didn’t really, you know, _date_ him.” He leans against Kenma, a warm and familiar weight.

Kenma relaxes. It feels like ages since he’d last talked to Kuroo, even though their video call had taken place this afternoon. “I need to think of a way to beat him.”

Kuroo hums. “Maybe I could help?”

“You know nothing about Pokémon.”

Kuroo brings a hand to his chest in mock offence. “I do know Pokémon. I’m Pokémon Master material. My favourite Pokémon is the one that looks like… a nose.”

Kenma clicks his tongue.

“Kidding,” Kuroo says. “I like, uh, Pikachu. Even though it stops being cute once it grows up.”

“Evolving isn’t growing up,” Kenma rolls his eyes. “Pikachu stays Pikachu unless you—” he stops, the wheels in his head beginning to turn. Slowly, like a piece of machinery that hasn’t been oiled in a long time.

“What?” Kuroo asks.

Kenma fishes the shiny grey stone from his pocket, the one he’d picked up after fighting Daishou. He beckons Skitty over. The stone begins to glow in Kenma’s hand.

It happens fast. One moment, Skitty is a ball of pink fur on Kuroo’s bed sheets. A white light envelopes it, and the next moment, standing in its place is a large cat with purple fur decorating its head, neck, and tail.

“Moon Stone,” Kenma murmurs. “Skitty evolves to Delcatty with a Moon Stone.”

Kuroo’s expression is one of awe. He nudges Kenma. “Your cat became a sexy cat.”

Kenma extends his hand to Delcatty, who bounds over and brushes its head against his palm. Delcatty is no longer tiny, its eyes bright with a renewed determination. Or maybe that’s just Kenma projecting.

He swings his legs over the side of Kuroo’s bed, feet hitting the floor at the same instant the door bangs open and Lev rushes in with a packet of ready-sliced bread.

“Here!” he tosses the packet to Kenma, narrowly avoiding hitting him in the face. For a volleyball player, his aim and grasp of momentum kind of suck. “Sorry, this was the only thing I managed to find. There was frozen pizza and all sorts of alcohol out there, but I didn’t think they’d work as well.” His eyes land on Delcatty. “You look different.”

Kenma grabs a slice from the packet for Delcatty, shoving a second between his teeth. His hunger is forgotten, replaced with the anticipation of the impending match. “Fngks, Lffh,” he mumbles around the bread in his mouth.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Lev asks worriedly. “Maybe you should take the whole loaf.”

Kuroo snorts. “Bread makes you fat.”

Lev turns to stare at him, eyes round. “Bread makes you _fat_?”

Kenma ignores them and goes over to the door. Delcatty trots after him, tail flicking back and forth.

“Kenma, wait!” Lev calls. “I have something for you.” He hands Kenma a small box with _TM15_ printed on it in large black lettering. “It’ll be useful for your fight.”

Kenma accepts it the box, recognising it at once. He turns to Delcatty, suddenly feeling good about their battle.

“Ready to beat Bokuto?”

 

 

Half the party has relocated to the kitchen by the time Kenma gets outside. Bokuto sways almost imperceptibly on the spot, Noctowl on guard next to him. He grins when he sees Kenma step into the room, and Kenma doesn’t flinch when he meets his eye.

Bokuto opens his mouth. “I—”

“I challenge you to a Pokémon battle,” Kenma says quickly.

“Go, Kenma!” Kuroo cheers from the sidelines.

Bokuto blinks in recognition at Kuroo’s voice, turns expectantly to the rest of the onlookers.

“Go, Bokuto,” Akaashi says half-heartedly.

Bokuto turns back to the battle, satisfied. Noctowl ruffles its feathers as Delcatty steps forward.

“Oho,” Bokuto seems genuinely excited to take in Delcatty’s new form. “That’s… awesome. But!” he pauses dramatically. The pause becomes awkward. Bokuto scratches at the back of his head. “But…”

“Boo!” Kuroo yells.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Akaashi supplies.

“Yeah!” Bokuto smacks a fist against his palm. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. You can’t teach an old cat—”

“Delcatty,” Kenma cuts to the chase. “Charm!”

Delcatty fixes Noctowl with large, innocent eyes.

Noctowl cocks its head, feathers flattening. The move seems to work— Noctowl already appears less wary than before. If all goes well, its subsequent attacks will be less intense than it’s capable of.

Bokuto extends a finger. “Hoothoot, takedown!”

“Brace yourself,” is all the warning Kenma manages to give before Noctowl speeds towards them, ramming into Delcatty with a _thump_ that sends a small shockwave through the floor. Several onlookers stumble; Delcatty holds its ground for a second before being thrown against the far wall. It lands in a heap on the ground, but climbs shakily to its feet.

Skitty would have been knocked out instantly, Kenma thinks, heart beating quickly in a mix of excitement and relief. “Okay,” he breathes. “Hang in there, Delcatty. Hyper beam!”

He sends a silent thanks to Lev for the TM. With this new attack, they stand an actual chance of winning.

The brilliant white blast knocks Noctowl out of the air; it goes down with a squawk, but like Delcatty, gets right back up again— feathers singed and battered, but otherwise able to fight.

“Hoothoot!” Bokuto cries, distraught. He gives Noctowl a once over, turns to look accusingly at Kenma. “Hoothoot… sky attack!”

Kenma sucks in a breath as Noctowl takes flight, a familiar glow surrounding it. Next to Kenma, Delcatty seems to shrink back.

“Wait for it,” Kenma instructs quietly.

Noctowl hangs in the air a long time— a blessing in disguise, since Delcatty is still recovering from its previous attack. Kenma keeps his eye trained on Noctowl, skin prickling with anticipation. Timing is everything. They can’t afford to screw this up.

Finally, Noctowl folds its wings.

“Now!” Kenma yells.

Delcatty opens its mouth and blasts a second hyper beam, at the same time Noctowl shoots towards them, a bullet sheathed in light. They collide, each pushing for the upper hand in a spectacular reenactment of the Harry Potter-Voldemort confrontation. Delcatty, like Harry, is the underdog, still growing into its full power. Noctowl, like Voldemort, stands in the way and has no nose.

“Come on,” Kenma mutters. “Come on, come _on_ —”

Delcatty’s hyper beam wins out, sending Noctowl spiralling into Bokuto. The two land in a pile, dazed and unmoving. All the tension seems to vanish from the room. Akaashi is already waiting to check on them; he tosses Bokuto’s wallet to Kenma.

The rest of the onlookers erupt into applause.

Kenma crouches down to draw Delcatty into his arms, burying his nose into the fur of Delcatty’s neck. “You did it,” he murmurs, and Delcatty nuzzles back weakly. Kenma turns to look at where Kuroo is helping tend to Bokuto on the floor.

“Is it over?” Bokuto is asking. “Did I win?”

“You got owned,” Kuroo says. “But it was a good fight.”

Delcatty headbutts Kenma softly to get his attention, nudging something on the floor towards him. It’s a photograph— a group shot taken back at summer training camp the previous year, with all five participating teams in the picture. Just as Kenma is about to ask if the photo is for him to keep, Lev comes rushing over.

“Did you win?” he asks eagerly. “I missed most of it, but I heard it was awesome. Are you fine? Is there anything you need me to—”

Kenma thrusts the photograph at him. “Here,” he says. “Help me keep this safe.”

Lev takes the photo with a wide smile. “Of course!”

“Kenma,” Bokuto hollers from across the room. “You may’ve won, but I’m still gonna… become the strongest…” he gives Kenma a tipsy wave as Akaashi drags him away.

“Smell you later,” Kenma whispers. Delcatty meows with feeling.

 

 

An hour and a hefty five thousand yen later, Kenma is happily back under Kuroo’s covers.

“What a party,” Kuroo sighs as he comes into the room and closes the door behind him, probably having just seeing the last of his guests off. He stretches contentedly, coming over to join Kenma in bed. “I didn’t even have to get drunk.”

Kenma moves to make room for him, Kuroo lying so that his back is pressed to Kenma’s chest. Kenma opens his mouth to asking about the decision to throw a party, but decides against it. “What did you see in Daishou?” he asks instead.

“Daishou?” Kuroo half-turns, seems to realise he can’t turn fully without violating multiple personal space rules at once, then proceeds to do it anyway. Kenma’s breath hitches at the sudden proximity. He can see every detail of Kuroo’s face— the flutter of his lashes to the slight crease of his forehead— and why is it making him so nervous?

“Did you see him?” Kuroo asks. “He wasn’t invited, but I wouldn’t be surprised— wait, did you _fight_ him?”

“Yeah,” Kenma answers, averting his gaze. It’s unfair, really. Kuroo rambles when he’s nervous, but Kenma freezes up, which is difficult to disguise. “Earlier, near the station. It’s fine, I don’t think he’ll bother us anymore. Answer my question.”

Kuroo must notice his discomfort, because he turns back around before responding. “Uh. He was a good kisser? I mean, he really knew what he was doing with his tongue—”

Kenma squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay. Don’t answer my question.”

“You asked,” Kuroo says defensively.

Kenma huffs out a breath. The wall is hard against his back, and though it’s not exactly uncomfortable, the single bed is a tight fit. Sharing had been a lot easier before they’d both hit their growth spurts.

“Are you sure you hit your growth spurt?” Kuroo teases. “You’re still— _ow_ ,” he winces as Kenma pinches his side. “Kidding, just kidding, I love how tall and manly you are.” He wriggles forward, attempting to create more space.

Kenma ignores the remark. “Bokuto really cares about you,” he comments. “He was fighting me for… I don’t know. For your sake.”

Kuroo chuckles. “Gotta love that guy,” he says, voice fond. “But, you know, it’s different.”

Kenma is acutely aware that Kuroo can feel his heartbeat. “Different?”

“Different with Bokuto and, well, you? I mean, with Bokuto, he and I did stuff, and it’s not like we like each other— well, obviously we liked each other, but not like that, and I would do that sort of thing with him because we— wait, I wouldn’t do that sort of thing with him anymore, of course—” Kuroo stops talking to peer over his shoulder. “What are you smiling about?”

Kenma rests his forehead against Kuroo’s back, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling up in his chest. “Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bread makes you fat?!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9aTMrjactg)
> 
> [Kuroo's (alleged) favourite Pokémon](http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Nosepass_\(Pok%C3%A9mon\))
> 
> I spent a straight week looking up references on Bulbapedia and now know more about Noctowl and Delcatty than I care to


	3. Class Trial is Now in Session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is late /o\ writing has been a bit of a struggle, life got in the way, standard excuses apply ;;; sorry for the wait, and I hope this chapter is a little fun to read, at least!!
> 
> Thank you to my Awesome Beta Reet and everyone who has commented and encouraged me with this! And of course to my favourite marshmallow, Alice ♥

“Hey, Kenma,” Lev whispers from the seat next to him. “What’s it like dating Kuroo?”

The train they’re in takes a sudden left turn; Kenma falls against the window, forehead bumping glass. They’re on their way to Miyagi for a practice session with Karasuno’s volleyball team, after Coach Nekomata had decided it was time for the periodic reminder of their ‘trash dump’ rivalry to motivate them for the upcoming Interhigh preliminaries.

Kenma rubs his forehead, disgruntled, and turns away. It’s not as if he _tries_ to make a habit of ignoring Lev. At this point, it’s pretty much ingrained in him. The question Lev is posing also happens to be a difficult one.

“It must be nice,” Lev continues, voice kept low. Kenma can hear Tora giving the first years a pep talk several rows behind them. “Dating a childhood friend,” Lev clarifies. “Things must be so much easier, since you already understand each other.”

The night after he’d defeated Bokuto, Kuroo had slung an arm around Kenma’s waist in his sleep and Kenma had lay still, wide awake and wondering what exactly it meant to cross the line from _best friends_ into something more. Kuroo seemed perfectly content to carry on doing things like nothing had changed. Did Kuroo stop being _just Kuroo_ because they’d both admitted they liked each other in that way?

At ten years old, Kenma had grudgingly tried every sport or hobby that took Kuroo’s fancy. At fourteen, he studied incessantly so that he’d be able to join Kuroo at Nekoma. These days, he finds himself thinking about kissing Kuroo.

Lev is looking at him expectantly.

“Uh,” Kenma averts his gaze. “I guess?”

Lev sounds wistful. “You don’t have to worry about little things like what Kuroo likes, and you can spend time together without it being weird… oh, and you don’t ever have to be nervous! Since you grew up together, and all.”

Kenma narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Who do you like who isn’t a childhood friend?”

Lev startles, loud laugh escaping his throat. “Me?” he asks, just as a pleasant automated voice announces their arrival at Sendai. Kenma practically sees Lev’s brain shift into a different gear. “We’re here!” Lev unbuckles his seatbelt and shoots to his feet as the train slows. “I can finally show everyone at Karasuno what Nekoma’s ace is made of!”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Tora snaps from the aisle. “You can’t be ace unless you hit killer spikes _all_ the time. Not half the time. Misses make you an ace-wannabe.”

“I’m still improving!” Lev replies brightly. “I don’t miss _half_ the time. Maybe one in ten? Just wait, I’ll be the best ace Nekoma’s had in years!”

If Yaku were still here, his stern look would quieten Lev down in no time. Kenma finds that he misses him, misses Kai’s quiet reassurance and the constant pressure of Kuroo’s hand on his back, guiding him to walk in the right direction. Kenma isn’t allowed to have his gaming console out at all times anymore, not as a third year. There’s a whole horde of underclassman he’s supposed to be looking out for now.

With a sigh, he follows the rest of the team off the train.

 

 

It occurs to Kenma, standing at the door to Karasuno’s gym, that he could soon be in for another battle with one of Kuroo’s exes. Specifically Tsukishima. Kenma knows Kuroo had gone out with him, even if Kenma had never taken pains to find out the details.

He only hopes the battle can wait until after practice. As much as Nekoma’s current first years seem to adore Kuroo— what little they’ve seen of him from his visits to help out with practice— Kenma doesn’t fancy the idea of explaining himself to anyone. Fortunately, Tsukishima doesn’t seem the type for theatrics.

“Kenma!” Shouyou launches himself at Kenma the moment they’re through the doors, all bright smiles and excited gestures. “I learned some new moves, wait till you see them! And we have some _amazing_ first years. Prepare yourself, we’re gonna win today!”

His enthusiasm is overwhelming, as usual, but Kenma feels a smile pull at his lips, and he doesn’t push Shouyou away. Lev hovers around them, as if watching for pointers. Eventually, Karasuno’s setter— Kageyama— comes to drag Shouyou away.

As they warm up, Kenma feels a pair of eyes on him. He looks up to see Tsukishima standing several meters away on the other side of the net, face impassive. The light reflects off his glasses, and Kenma can’t see his eyes. Tsukishima could be glaring holes through him, or for all Kenma knows, he could be catching a few minutes of shut-eye before the match. Or staring at his teammate’s ass.

Kenma decides to focus his brain power on playing a good game.

 

 

They beat Karasuno two matches to one, but by the barest of margins. Shouyou never seems to stop improving, his once wildly unpredictable attacks sharpened into something formidable. Kenma tells him this, and Shouyou beams.

Tsukishima doesn’t seem very interested in engaging Kenma, even after they’ve moved from the hand-shaking to the clearing of equipment. Kenma keeps his guard up, but it’s Shouyou who approaches him as he’s putting away the volleyball cart.

“Hey, Kenma,” Shouyou scuffs his shoe against the floor, almost as if nervous. “There’s something I really wanna show you. Come with me for a minute?”

“Can I come too?” Lev asks eagerly.

Shouyou hesitates.

“Lev, go help Tora with the net,” Kenma instructs, hoping Lev will take the hint.

“But the first years are helping him,” Lev replies, not taking the hint at all.

“It’s fine,” Shouyou says quickly. “He can come.”

They’re led out of the gym and all the way to the main school block, up stairs and down hallways. Kenma feels out of place walking through someone else’s school, even if there aren’t many students around at this time. He’s glad Lev came, after all— at least this way, the occasional stare is split between them.

“Shouyou?” Kenma asks after several minutes of walking in silence. “We’ve walked down this same hallway three times.”

Shouyou turns, a distinct look of guilt on his face. “Um… we have?”

At this point, even Lev looks bewildered.

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou finally blurts. “I just needed to give them some time, I’ll make it up to you, Kenma, I swear.”

Kenma takes a half-step back, alarmed. “Sorry?” he echoes. “Time? What are you—”

Shouyou grabs the handle of the nearest door, opens it, and pushes Kenma in.

The first thing Kenma notices about the classroom is that its tables are arranged in a circle, facing inwards towards each other, without any chairs. Standing behind each table is a member of Karasuno’s former volleyball team— all people Kenma is familiar with. Shouyou runs over and slots himself into a free space between Tsukishima and Kageyama, leaving the last vacant table in the circle for Kenma.

Standing at the table directly opposite is Karasuno’s former captain, Sawamura. He’s flanked by Karasuno’s other two former third years.

“Welcome to class trial,” Karasuno’s former vice-captain says with an amiable smile. “You probably already know why you’re here.”

Kenma feels his face grow hot from the attention on him. Next to him, Lev laughs nervously. “Did someone die? Are we suspects?”

All around the circle, there are different reactions. Karasuno’s libero and buzzcut wing spiker laugh, brimming with excitement. Karasuno’s jump float serve expert and former ace look apologetic and slightly nervous. Karasuno’s current captain is wearing a practiced look of patience.

Kenma really needs to learn their names.

“Wait,” Lev says slowly, turning to Sawamura. “I get it. You’re one of Kuroo’s exes. Does Kenma have to fight you in front of everyone? Right now?”

Kenma had thought his face couldn’t get any hotter. It feels like his dirty laundry is being aired for all to see, and while he’s not _ashamed_ of Kuroo, wouldn’t consider him laundry of any sort, it’s not the kind of information Kenma would give out willingly.

Sawamura laughs. It’s not an evil laugh— more of a chuckle— and Kenma is grateful for small miracles. “This isn’t a fight,” Sawamura says. “This is an intervention.”

Kenma frowns. “Why are you intervening?”

Sawamura folds his arms. “You shouldn’t go out with someone like Kuroo. I’m doing this for your own good.”

“Are you Kenma’s _dad_?” Lev asks incredulously.

Sawamura shakes his head. “The only reason Kuroo got close to me was because he wanted information,” he explains. “He stole Karasuno’s training notes, so that Nekoma would be able to beat us at Nationals.”

“Technically, you were right, we _are_ investigating a death,” Former Vice Captain chips in, looking far too enthusiastic for the topic at hand. “The death of Kuroo’s honour!”

Lev looks shocked. “Kuroo would _never_ —”

Kenma steps up to the vacant table. No matter what people are saying, he knows Kuroo wouldn’t steal Karasuno’s training notes. Kuroo doesn’t even let Kenma cross the road unless the green man is flashing.

Kenma is suddenly filled with the urge to uncover the truth.

“If we’re here for a trial,” Kenma says, more calmly than he feels. “Then let’s get started.”

 

 

“It happened at training camp,” Sawamura recounts. “Our team’s schedule, practice notes, and hand signal sheet were all in a folder. But after the first day of camp, that folder went missing.”

“We had no schedule and notes for the rest of camp?” Kageyama looks surprised.

“Suga had our schedule down by heart, plus he came up with the hand signals, so those weren’t the problem,” Former Ace says.

“Asahi is right,” Sawamura agrees. “The notes were most important.”

Kenma takes a moment to process all that. “Kuro knew about this folder?”

Sawamura nods. “During the captains-only meeting on the first day, I dropped my bag and the folder slipped out. Kuroo picked the papers up for me. He was the only one who knew I was carrying them around with me.”

“And you _saw_ Kuro steal the folder?”

Sawamura hesitates. “No,” he admits. “The folder vanished. We didn’t see anyone take it.”

“So you’re making baseless accusations!” Lev concludes. Karasuno’s current captain had pulled up a table to add to the circle for him, and he now stands to Kenma’s right, a look of intense concentration on his face.

Tsukishima clicks his tongue. “It’s the most logical explanation. Nekoma is our rival, and your captain saw our training notes. Who else would have taken them?”

They need to establish the basic information about the case first, Kenma decides. When, where, and how the folder was stolen.

“Did you leave your bag anywhere, unguarded, at any point during training?” Kenma asks.

The air around him seems to shift. It feels, somehow, like they’ve entered a new, faster-paced phase of the trial.

“I had my bag with me the whole day,” Sawamura answers.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Libero declares. “Someone like Nekoma’s captain could have taken our stuff without anyone noticing!”

“Daichi is responsible,” Asahi says. “He wouldn’t have misplaced the folder. It must have been taken.”

Buzzcut pulls a face. “Your captain had a lot of nerve, stealing our stuff in broad daylight!”

“Maybe it’s all a misunderstanding,” Shouyou suggests. “And we should let Kenma go?”

“Oi,” Kageyama barks. “Whose side are you on?”

Lev leans over to whisper in Kenma’s ear. “Are we supposed to _do_ something?”

Kenma doesn’t answer, busy sifting through everyone’s words to try and gain a clue. He thinks back to one statement in particular. The missing folder was probably—

“I had my bag with me the whole day,” Sawamura answers.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Libero declares. “Someone like Nekoma’s captain could have taken our stuff without anyone noticing!”

Lev leans over again, smile forced. “Haven’t we been over this?”

“It’s some sort of debate loop,” Kenma mutters back. “I think I’m supposed to pinpoint the inaccurate statement.”

“Daichi is responsible,” Asahi says. “He wouldn't have misplaced the folder. It must have been taken.”

Lev nods, eyes widening in understanding. “Who made the inaccurate statement?”

Kenma points to Buzzcut.

Buzzcut pulls a face. “Your captain had a lot of nerve, stealing our stuff in broad daylight!”

Lev slams his hand down on the table with a sudden, loud bang that makes Kenma jump. “Objection!” Lev yells. “You— uh…”

“Tanaka,” Buzzcut supplies, eyes narrowed.

Lev turns to look expectantly at Kenma.

Kenma takes a moment to gather his wits. “Broad daylight,” he says. “That’s probably not true. If Sawamura had his bag with him all day and no one saw Kuro, then it’s more likely the folder was taken at night.”

All around the circle, there are murmurs of agreement.

“My bag was on a shelf in the room,” Sawamura affirms. “If someone snuck into the room, they could have taken the folder while we were all asleep.”

Suga glances at Jump Float Serve Expert. “Yamaguchi,” Suga says, and Jump Float Serve Expert looks up at him quickly. “Tell us what Yachi told you on the second day of camp.”

Yamaguchi blinks. “Right,” he straightens, forehead scrunching as he recalls. “Yachi told me that when she did some clearing up in the morning, she found a phone charm on the floor of our sleeping area. It was a cat charm. She didn’t show it to me, but she was trying to find who it belonged to.”

It sounds exactly like the kind of thing Kuroo would own. Still, there has to be a way to clear Kuroo’s name, based on the evidence they have.

The air around Kenma seems to shift once again.

“If the charm doesn’t belong to any of us,” Kageyama says. “Whoever stole the folder must’ve dropped it.”

Current Captain looks thoughtful. “Just like in the movies.”

“Unless it had nothing to do with the folder,” Shouyou points out. “What if the charm was already there on the first day?”

Yamaguchi grimaces. “It’s weird that none of us saw it, though…”

Tsukishima snorts. “A black cat charm points straight to Kuroo. Why are we debating this?”

Kenma slams his hand down on his table. Lev jumps.

“Wait,” Kenma says, insides turning over as everyone looks at him. He forces himself to look Tsukishima in the eye. “No one said the charm was black. How did you know that?”

Tsukishima’s expression sours as the rest of Karasuno react with varying degrees of surprise.

“Yachi told me about it, and even I didn’t know it was a black cat,” Yamaguchi stutters, looking torn between contributing to the case and defending his friend.

“Did the charm belong to you, Tsukishima?” Suga asks patiently. Kenma doesn’t particularly like where this is headed.

Tsukishima adjusts his glasses, annoyed, but doesn’t deny it.

“Do you like black cats?” Kageyama asks, unhelpfully.

“No,” Tsukishima grinds out. “It was a gift.”

“From someone who likes black cats?” Tanaka presses.

“What’s important,” Lev says loudly. “Is that Kuroo didn’t drop that charm. Because he didn’t steal your folder. You know, Nekoma didn’t even beat Karasuno at nationals, so why are we fighting over this? Can’t we just let Kenma date who he wants to date?”

Kenma sighs. Apart from the last bit, though, he appreciates Lev’s effort.

Sawamura opens his mouth to respond, but he’s interrupted by Karasuno’s libero, who practically climbs on top of his table in excitement.

“Hold it,” Libero exclaims. “What if someone _saw_ Kuroo take the folder?”

Sawamura frowns. “Nishinoya, did you see Kuroo take the folder?”

Nishinoya shakes his head. “It didn’t click before, but I just remembered— I woke up in the middle of the first night and saw someone opening Daichi’s bag. I didn’t see his face, since it was dark, but he had really messy hair.”

Kenma exchanges a glance with Lev. It sounds sketchy, but if it’s true, they’re going to have to overturn the accusation.

For the third time, the air around Kenma seems to shift.

“We were all on the floor, so I didn’t get a good look at him,” Nishinoya reiterates. “But there was definitely someone there. He even dragged a chair up to reach Daichi’s bag!”

“Are you sure you didn’t dream it up?” Shouyou asks, sounding a little desperate.

Noya puffs out his chest. “He was real, definitely real. When I looked at the chair the next morning, there was a footprint on it.”

“A muddy footprint,” Yamaguchi clarifies with a sigh. “I was on cleanup duty, I remember that.”

“So Kuroo snuck in at night, stood on a chair to reach Daichi’s bag on the shelf, and was spotted by Nishinoya,” Asahi summarises.

Current Captain nods. “Sounds plausible.”

Kenma slams his hand down on the table. “You’ve got that wrong,” he says.

Everyone looks surprised, except for Tanaka, who looks downright offended. “Ennoshita is _never_ wrong,” he says.

Kenma shakes his head. “Kuro was the tallest member of our team. There aren’t any shelves in school he had to stand on a chair to reach.”

The members of the Karasuno team exchange uneasy glances. “Then who was it? Kageyama asks. “Who stole the folder?” His eyes scan the room, gaze settling on Shouyou. Kageyama leans over and grabs him by the front of the shirt. “You’re friends with Kozume, aren’t you? Did you give Nekoma information?”

“No!” Shouyou protests as Kageyama shakes him. “It wasn’t me!”

As Suga runs over to separate them, Kenma thinks over the evidence. It only takes a second, since they really don’t have much to go on.

“Someone shorter than Kuroo?” Lev suggests to no one in particular.

“That only rules out Tsukki,” Yamaguchi points out.

“Someone significantly shorter than Kuroo?” Lev amends.

While the Karasuno team debate among themselves, Kenma turns to Lev. “Remember that photo I asked you to hold onto for me?” he asks, quietly enough that no one else will hear. There seems to be a pattern— he’d picked up the Moonstone after defeating Daishou, which he had used in his face-off with Bokuto, and after defeating Bokuto, he’d picked up a photo of summer training camp. If Kenma’s hunch is right, that photo should help him here.

“Yeah!” Lev pulls the photo from his pocket— it’s a little crumpled, but intact. “You mean this? I brought it with me today, just in case.”

Kenma decides not to question it. He takes the photo and studies it— they’d arranged themselves according to who had lost the most matches, he recalls. Something Bokuto had come up with on a whim. Nekoma is near the back, while Karasuno is in front, its club members sitting down on the grass.

“Got it,” Kenma mutters.

Lev brings his hand down hard on the table in front of him, loud enough to make everybody in the room jump. “Kenma has figured it out!” he announces.

All eyes turn to them. Almost at once, Kenma feels himself start to sweat under their gaze. Mixed in with the nerves, though, is an excitement at finally having figured it out.

He ducks his head and speaks to his desk. “The person who took the folder seemed like he memorised the schedule, when really he had it with him the whole time. He probably knew the folder was in Sawamura’s bag because he helped make the notes.” Kenma takes a deep breath and raises his head. “The culprit was your vice captain— Suga.”

“Sugawara,” Lev whispers.

“Sugawara,” Kenma corrects, feeling his cheeks colour.

The Karasuno team is silent. Then, gradually, there’s an uproar as everyone tries to express their dissatisfaction with the verdict at the same time.

“Suga?” Asahi says incredulously.

“Impossible!” Nishinoya yells. “Suga would never have given out information like that!”

“Me?” Sugawara asks, flustered. “Why would you think—”

Kenma places the photo in his hand on the desk, pointing to Karasuno in the front row. The undersides of their shoes are visible, thanks to them being seated. Everyone falls silent as they study the photo.

Yamaguchi claps a hand over his mouth. “Suga’s shoes are muddy.”

There are murmurs of surprise as Sawamura turns to his vice captain, a look of disbelief on his face. “Suga? Is it true?”

The guilt written all over Sugawara’s face is answer enough.

“Listen,” Sugawara says hurriedly. “It’s not what you think! I wasn’t helping Nekoma. It’s true that I took the folder from your bag, but it was only because I woke up with an idea for new signals and had to write them down.” Sugawara looks around at the rest of Karasuno, as if willing them to understand. “It was the middle of the night and I wasn’t thinking straight, so I put the folder back in my bag instead. And then it looked like the folder had been stolen…”

“That makes sense,” Tanaka breathes a sigh of relief. “So it was a misunderstanding.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “It’s not like Suga could’ve had an ulterior motive for letting Daichi believe it was stolen by Kuroo... or anything like that.”

“Ulterior motive?” Sugawara laughs nervously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So, case closed, right?” Lev interrupts loudly. “We restored Kuroo’s honour? Kenma can go out with him now?”

Kenma tries not to cringe as Sawamura turns to address them. “I— er, I suppose,” he says, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry for the trouble, Kozume. It looks like I was wrong about Kuroo.”

“It’s okay,” Kenma mumbles, wincing as Tanaka and Nishinoya start yelling excitedly about God-knows-what. Now that he’s done here, it would be nice to leave the room and its particularly enthusiastic occupants.

As if reading his mind, Lev bends down to whisper in Kenma’s ear. “Let’s go,” he says. “Tora will be mad if we’re not back for roll call.”

They slip outside as quietly as possible. Once away from the noise, Kenma feels himself relax, all the anxiousness he’d been trying to suppress now taken over by a gratifying sense of accomplishment.

“That’s three exes down,” Lev announces. He turns to Kenma eagerly. “How do you feel about another spectacular win?”

Kenma shakes his head, exasperated, but decides to humour him. “Good,” he says.

He’s barely taken another step when someone taps him on the back. Kenma turns, expecting it to be Shouyou, but it’s Kageyama holding something out to him. It looks like a light pink envelope. Kenma reaches for it hesitantly.

“Is that a love letter?” Lev asks brightly, making things about a million times more awkward than necessary.

“It’s not a love letter,” Kageyama says quickly, shoving the envelope into Kenma’s hand. “It’s… someone asked me to give that to you. The instructions are to keep it safe and not open it unless you’re in a pinch.”

Kenma turns the cardboard over in his hand. Something that will help him in his encounter with Kuroo’s next ex, maybe.

Kageyama bows stiffly and turns, making for the classroom as Kenma and Lev walk in the opposite direction.

“Do you want me to keep that safe?” Lev asks, once Kageyama is long out of earshot. He gestures to the envelope in Kenma’s hand. “I promise I won’t open it.”

Kenma honestly doesn’t care if he does. “Please,” he says, and hands it over.

 

 

Their extended absence seems to have gone unnoticed. Tora is ushering the first years onto the bus just as they return, and Kenma and Lev fall perfectly into line behind them. The interior of the bus smells weirdly musty, but thankfully, it’s only a short ride to the station.

Kenma toes off his shoes and brings his legs up onto his seat, fishing his phone out of his bag to check for the usual “bye!!! see you next time!!!” text from Shouyou. Just as he’s about to type a reply, his phone starts buzzing with an incoming call from Kuroo.

Usually, Kenma avoids answering calls in public. But he’s feeling a little daring after his face-off with Sawamura, and he has yet to tell Kuroo about it, so he accepts the call.

“Hey,” Kuroo says, voice fond. “How was your match?”

“We won, two-to-one,” Kenma wiggles downwards in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “Guess who I ran into.”

“Who?” Kuroo asks. It seems to take a second for it to click. “Oh. _Oh_. Right. Did you have to battle someone?”

“Uh huh,” Kenma answers. “Sawamura.”

Kuroo laughs guiltily. “You know, Kenma, I didn’t actually date him, I swear. The exes you’re dealing with are more like a list of people I’ve made out with—”

“Fine,” Kenma cuts him off. “I believe you.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo says, sounding adequately ashamed. But then he seems to perk up. “I’ll make it up to you— let’s get ice cream. Or whatever you want. I’ll buy it for you.”

At this, Kenma sits up a little straighter. “A cat charm?”

Kuroo pauses. “A what?”

Kenma clears his throat, embarrassed. “Nothing. Let’s go to the arcade.”

Kuroo whistles, and Kenma can hear the grin in his voice when he speaks. “The arcade, huh. Are you asking me out on a date?”

Kenma bites his lip. “You’re paying, though.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Who’s Kenma talking to?” one of the first years who probably thinks he’s being discreet whispers to Lev from across the aisle. “He’s _smiling_.”

Lev glances to Kenma, then back to the first year. “I don’t know?” Lev says, pretty unconvincingly. “Definitely not his boyfriend, or anything?”

For once, Kenma finds he doesn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lev probably thought they were playing [Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney](http://aceattorney.wikia.com/wiki/Phoenix_Wright:_Ace_Attorney), but this round was based loosely on [Dangan Ronpa](http://danganronpa.wikia.com/wiki/Danganronpa:_Trigger_Happy_Havoc)'s [class trial segment](http://danganronpa.wikia.com/wiki/Class_Trial) (specifically, the non-stop debate).
> 
> Bonus points if you can guess the next game/ex!!


End file.
